


Filthy Pride

by L_The_other_consulting_detective



Series: Somebody who can do Both [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Angst, Cheating, Happy Ending, Kidnapping, M/M, Noctis doen't know how to breathe, Organized Crime AU, Prompto's not doing so well, Realization, Violence, but not the last one to be written, final part
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-09-26 15:24:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9908597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_The_other_consulting_detective/pseuds/L_The_other_consulting_detective
Summary: Noctis tried at first, to continue forward, to be the man he was supposed to. It wears him thin until there's nothing left to give though and when his last friends walk away....Prompto returns to the hum-drum of normal life, ignoring the emptiness of the bed beside him and the too large spaces between his fingers.





	1. Void of You

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I didn't think I'd write this so soon, but I realized I couldn't stand leaving them as they were. Enjoy!

The days grow long. Noctis is buried in his work and his grief. He doesn't think it worth noting how often he reaches for his drink, how many times Ignis frowns at him or Gladio walks away in disgust. He can pretend that everything is fine with the best of them.

It's only as he drives his hips forward, sweat gathering at his temples, his marked hand gloved still as he grasps the blonde hair of the man under him and pulls him up sharply, that he realizes that maybe he's too far gone. The stranger sounds _wrong_ as he moans and Noctis feels sick, even as he finishes. It's not the first time since Pr-his other left that he's found himself tangled up with another person, but it's the first man. The body under his isn't built right, too tall and missing the stretch marks he'd come to cherish. He doesn't think twice when they're done, pushing the man toward the door and ignoring the pouting lips and wide green eyes.

The bottle next to his bed is nearly empty, but it'll do for the moment as he collapses in on himself. Noctis is many things but he has never felt so weak before. His palm burns and he tears off the glove, taking a large gulp of burning liquid. Funny, he never cared much for vodka before. He glares at the soul mark on his skin and fumbles in the pocket of his discarded pants for his lighter.

Ignis finds him then, alerted by his latest conquests exit. The flame sears his palm and his skin smarts as he blearily tries to remove Prompto's mark. The other man slaps him hard and takes the lighter, yelling in his face words that Noctis can't bring himself to care about as he reaches for the vodka again.

 

Prompto's hands are shaking from exhaustion and lack of a decent meal as he keys in his phone pass-code. It's probably not the best idea to keep the same phone but he can't afford a new one yet. His photography commissions are less frequent than before and his rent is a bit steep since he was desperate and signed three months at the first place he found that Noctis probably wouldn't look, not for a while at least.   
  
It's not that he's getting less requests, but he has to be careful now. He can't go certain places because of the danger they might pose and he doesn't take anything that brings him anywhere near were Noctis might be and he's not evening thinking about touching his bank accounts, cash only these days. He sighs, noting the new voicemail from Ignis, the only contact from the Syndicate he doesn't have blocked.  He shoves the phone under his cheek, tilting his head to hold it in place with his shoulder as he tugs the fridge open. At least his apartment's not falling apart, even if it is a bit small.  
  
The small container of milk, a partially eaten head of lettuce and three eggs stare back. He grabs the last protein shake in the door and mentally starts adding his remaining money for groceries as his voicemail churns through it's typical welcoming message.  
  
Two calls for photographs he can't take and finally he hears Ignis' voice.

"Prompto. I don't expect to hear back, so I will tell you the basics here and hope it's secure. It's not good. Noctis hasn't been sober in nearly a week and it was very touch and go before that. He's handed over most of his duties for the moment and I'm afraid that if I cannot bring him to reason soon he will do something irreversible. He is restrained at that moment, Gladiolus has resorted to it since he keeps trying to remove his soul mark. I thought you should know."

Prompto barely makes it to the sink before the few sips of protein shake and stomach acid are forcing themselves back up. His phone hits the ground pretty hard but he doesn't have a thought for it yet. Noctis, his own fucking soulmate, is trying to rid himself of their mark. Well, Prompto thinks, as he slides to the floor and reaches for his thankfully intact phone, that and drinking himself to death.

He stares at the dialing window, the room around him a reminder of the empty life he's found away from the man he loved (loves). There's little personal here and he can barely keep track of the days when he has a place to be, he has a sneaking suspicion that the milk in the fridge has long gone bad and for the life of him can't count back to the last actual meal he ate. He thinks there was a protein shake the day before, but it's hard to say. He knows that rent in due...soon. Between his own haze and Noctis' apparent descent he wonders, not for the first time, what the fuck he's doing.

This time there's no room for him to remind himself all of the good reasons he left, this time there's the sound of his front door being kicked off it's hinges. He comes up, gun in hand and autopilot kicking in.

Without Noctis to protect and be protected by though, he leaves his right side too open and it's nothing for his attackers to come at him. Dirty blonde hair and blue eyes too much like his own enter his vision for a flash before a stinging pain spreads the base of his skull and he goes limp.

 

Ignis finds Prompto's apartment, the door laying in half on the floor, furniture between it and the kitchen is turned over and there are signs of the blonde's struggle, though small. He didn't fight for long, Ignis realizes, looking at the flecks of blood and the abandoned phone on the floor. He picks it up and finds it still unlocked. It's clear his message was listened to and his own number is sitting, waiting for the call button to be pressed. He swallows hard as he opens the settings and checks to see what Prompto has set as the auto lock timeout.  
  
Fifteen minutes. Ignis doesn't hesitate, running to the third floor balcony at the end of Prompto's hall. Fifteen minutes is his window for having missed saving his friend and he strains to catch a glimpse of anything that might help him. A glint of too shiny for the neighborhood metal catches his attention, a silver van with a fresh coat of paint and the name of a business on the side. Ignis is about to discount it when he see's the profile of the passenger, darker blonde and known to him.

He knows he can't stop them, not alone and he dials Gladiolus.

"Gladio, Loqi's taken Prompto, he's hurt I don't know how badly. I need you to let Noctis up and explain to him. If this doesn't move him, I don't believe anything will."

"Understood...stay safe."

"I shall. You too."

Ignis can track the van as it pulls into the flow of traffic and he throws himself behind the wheel of his black sedan, grateful for the modified engine it boasts and Cindy's personal overseeing of the Lucis' cars when she isn't helping move bodies.

 

Gladiolus unstraps the last of the restraints, allowing his friend to sit up as he rubs his wrists to get blood flowing normally. Noctis had stopped fighting them early that morning, when he'd sobered up some but Gladio had kept him tied down just in case and the other man hadn't protested it. He looked at Gladio blankly now, still absently rubbing his fingers over his sin and his soul mark.

"Did you hear me? Prompto's in trouble and Iggy needs us to back him up!"

Noctis' gaze is flat, empty, "I warned him. I told him I couldn't keep him safe if he left...and he went, like mom, like dad....are you leaving me too?"

Gladio isn't good at these sorts of conversations, he can see the yawning maw of loneliness that is staring out of the new King's face but he doesn't know what he's supposed to do to heal it. All he knows is that if they don't move, now, the men they love aren't going to be around much longer. He's a fighter and he doesn't have time for Noctis' self-loathing and lost thoughts.

"If you don't get up and put yourself together I might be. Loqi might not be as powerful as some of the men we deal with but if he's grabbed Prom, he probably thinks it'll get to you, or he thinks you won't find out until it's too late. He's crazier than Ardyn ever was on the surface and he'll fuck sunshine up if we don't. Fucking. Move. Out."

Noctis still appears to be processing and Gladio does something he swore he'd never do, he gives up on his friend. He turns away, manifesting his short sword as he does, ready for anything.

 

"Anything happens to Ignis and I'll take it out of your flesh... I imagine you'll take out whatever happens to Prompto on your own, but just in case, I'll help there too." The door stays open and Gladio can here the continued silence he leaves behind.

 


	2. On a Cross, my Sins are Writ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for this piece I left out any song lyrics, but if you wanted to hear the title piece, Filthy Pride
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KrPZBCG-8BQ

Prompto's vision returns to him in a way that is unfortunately familiar. Flickers of awareness, lights overhead, the color of a wall, his own hands reaching. When the blur finally becomes defined he is hanging form a bizarre metal cross and every breath is a struggle.Standing in front of him is Loqu, Ravus' unfortunate ex. Every time he see's the blonde man, usually at negotiations filled with threats and not in he midst of carrying out said threats, he remembers Ravus' anger.

The bartender had been his friend long before Noctis and long after Prompto learned of Ravus' past, so facing hi abuser only serves to further the heat in Prompto's bones. His chest heaves as he tries to take a deep breath and his arms strain painfully.

"You know," Loqi starts, "everyone imagines bleeding to death from being nailed to a cross, silly considering how little blood there usually is...that's not at all what happens."

He gets closer to Prompto, eyes wild, and practically shouts "Can't breath Blondie? That's how it goes!"

His tongue catches his teeth and there's an extra hiss in his voice. Prompto forces his aching arms to lift hi a bit and drags in a full breath. He's grateful that his boots are so worn, othersie his feet would be trapped in the ankle bindings strapped around them. The extra air allows him to respond with strength, though his churning stomach belies it.

"Maybe you should be up here then, since I know you're going to talk me to death long before I suffocate. After all, you're way more bark than bite."

He knows it's stupid to antagonize the man, but he also knows that if Loqi gets angry enough he'll start making mistakes. There's a small part of him that sort of hoping Loqi just gets sick of his mouth and offs him anyways. It's a part he tries very hard to ignore, although it certain drive home the awareness that if he gets out of this he really needs to talk to someone.

"or" says the part of him that's a gaping maw of wounded heart, "just go back, go back and make things right with Noctis."

It's so distracting that he is too late in realizing Loqi's opted for a nonverbal response to his snark. The feeling of his face flaming and his jaw shifting in the socket is a good distraction from thoughts of Noctis. Loqi's knuckles are bloody and Prompto finds his breathing truly is a struggle now.

Loqi shakes his hand and glares at Prompto, "Now look what you made me do to your pretty face. Your lover isn't going to be to happy about it."

Prompto tugs himself up again and forces words past his throbbing jaw, "I don't think you have to worry much, Lucis' are not known for caring about ex-associates much."

Loqi waves a hand, trying to be dismissive but merely appearing spastic instead.

"You're little spat? Word is he's your soulmate. Noctis will come, soulmates always do. Such a weak thing, finding your other half...It makes you less able, less functional on your own."

Loqi gives him a moment to think and Prompto finds that he at partially agrees, it's certainly made being on his own more difficult since he met Noctis. Then the other blonde is much too closer and Prompto swallows hard, feeling the distant ghost of Ardyn's hands as Loqi presses chest to chest against him. It's a violent reminder of Prompto's captivity as Loqi tilts his head and mutters into Prompto's ear, "You're lucky I value my life or I might finish what Ardyn started all those years ago. We've always been able to see why Noctis kept you around, even though you were supposed to be one of us. Blonde's definitely have more fun."

Prompto wants to believe the added tightness in his chest is just from the pressure of Loqi's torso, but the sudden clenching of his stomach tells him otherwise. Damn Loqi for playing on that old fear.

He gets his payback though, viciously slamming his forehead into Loqi's nose. It makes his jaw hurt ad his ears ring but the bloom of red on Loqi's face is worth it. He stumbles back and Prompto allows himself to feel a litle proud.

It's short lived though as Loqi draws a gun from the back waistband of his pants and brings it down hard on his temple.

The world goes dark in a blur of pain.

* * *

 

Gladio finds Ignis parked car and his husband leaned against it, staring at the low shape of a dark brick building. He presses a large hand to the small of Ignis' back, reassuring himself that Ignis is alright and telling Iggy that he's ready to go. Green eyes focus on him and then flick back to the bike, Prompto's left behind Ducati. Gladiolus knows that he's looking for the man they once pledged themselves to and he gives a small shake of his head, noting the tightness that catches Ignis' mouth. They don't say more about it, not now.

"That it?"

He nods toward the building Ignis was evaluating when he arrived, a typical square office building that's sitting unused since this part of town is under-developed. He notes that there are new handles on the doors and a small visible sliver of window near the ground tells him there is a basement level. Ignis hums in reply, a low vibration of agreement that Gladio takes to mean that they will have to watch a little longer to determine if there are guards.

It only takes a few minutes to confirm that they need a real plan if they're going to get in, since there are several men who appear to be casual passerby that they see walk past the building no less than four times apiece. It's a good system and Gladiolus can see why no one looks twice as the typical space with normal people strolling past. He is willing to bet that it's more complex inside, it would have to be if Loqi hoped to keep the noise of possible captives contained.

That line of thought makes his lips twist into a snarl and Ignis taps his arm lightly, reminding him that Prompto is stronger than he seems, that the little blonde they'd all come to love had a core of steel and more than enough experience with torture. Gladiolus can still see, if he tries, the small form tied to a chair, his fingernails being pulled from their roots even as he refused to give them information. He's forgiven himself for it, but it's still too easy for him to imagine Prompto screaming in pain at the hands of Loqi and his men.

Ignis' light touch becomes firmer as he takes a proper hold of the bigger man's forearm. "Loqi won't be hurting him, not yet. He's counting on Noctis taking some time to find out, and then he'll start, he needs Prompto whole for now, so he can inflict high volume damage later. We're ahead of his game."

Gladiolus nods, but the knowledge doesn't really make it any easier as he readies himself. The guards shouldn't be to hard to take out individually, then it's just a matter of getting far enough in to avoid a public spectacle before anyone inside notices. He see's the way one of the men, dressed as a jogger, appears to cough into his wrist as he takes a calculated pause near the front door, he does it every time he passes around and it's enough to tell Gladiolus they'll have to be quick. The communication system seems pretty tight, all the people he see's circulating make a motion similar and are clearly checking in.

Ignis see's it too and starts to time the intervals. They figure they have about a thirty second window between the last guard and the next check in time. It's not much but if they move quickly, it's enough.

* * *

 

Noctis stares at the door for a long time, far too long. He can feel a low buzz of panic in the place where he and Prompto's existences brush against each other, no matter what they do to distance themselves. It's been so quiet in his own mind lately that even that low vibration is enough to jolt him.

_what am I doing?_

Noctis wraps his hands tightly around his knees and squeezes as he blinks. He's just sitting there, going to let the man he loves, his actually fucking soulmate, be rescues by others because he's too much of a child to do it himself. He jerks to his feet and starts tossing aside clothing, looking for something to wear, preferably something clean though it's looking grim. He summon a sword as he searches, the weapon slotting into his hand like an old friend after far too long. Finally he finds his old black half pants and a tee that smells alright, throwing them on.

They feel like armor, like he can go out and protect something, protect Prompto, for once in his thrice damned life. He's always sworn to do right by the blonde and with he low vibration of pain and frightening darkness settled in the base of his skull he knows he's failed, gods has he failed. He doesn't think twice as he settles into the Jag's seat and turns on the tracking device on Ignis' phone.

It's high time he stopped feeling sorry for himself and started being the man Prompto had once thought him to be, even if it's too late.

* * *

 

Prompto is getting truly sick of waking up with throbbing migraines and he's sure that all the time unconscious is probably quite bad for him, but he doesn't say as much aloud. In part because he's fighting naseua and in part because there's something shoved in his mouth. The cloth is rough but thankfully tastes only of fibers and he raises his head slowly to look around. This time he's not tied down to anything but the heaviness in his arms tells him they aren't likely to be much use and his feet are bound together. The room is larger than the last one and he idle wonders why he's been moved when he hears the sounds of fighting somewhere to his left.

Ignis' voice is muffled but so familar Prompto feels he could cry. He makes a strained shout against the cloth shoved in his mouth but a hand yanks painfully on his arm. Loqi grins at him even as Gladio and Ignis burst through the door, their weapons raised, Ignis' dagger in hand, ready to be thrown.

They freeze as they take in the sight, Prompto on his knees, Loqi's pistol aimed between his eyes and a wide smile on the standing males face.

"Long time...oh, where is Noctis?"

Prompto doesn't want to acknowledge that his soulmate's absence wells up in his throat, burns across his tongue, and leaves him feeling hollow. He doesn't look at Ignis and Gladio, focused on the weapon pointed his way instead as he carefully conjures his own gun, relieved that he still can.

The weight of it is bitter, another tie to the man who couldn't even be bothered to come to his aid when he needed it. Not that he expected it really, but it's almost worse, Gladio and iggy coming and Noctis opting not to. He finds himself briefly thinking maybe he ought to let Loqi pull the trigger.

The thought doesn't get far though before another form is pushing past Ignis and Gladio, both of whom looked shocked. Noctis' dark hair is a mess and there are bags under his eyes, blood on his sword, and his shirt is torn, revealing a long scratch across his right shoulder. Loqi laughs, "Hello Noctis!"

It's all the distraction he needs, even though Noctis is opening his mouth to say something, and Prompto moves. He forces his numb arms to come up, pulls the trigger even as Loqi's fingers squeeze off a shot of his own.

There's a burning in his shoulder, but it doesn't matter. Loqi's blue eyes are open as he falls, viscera spraying the wall behind him, liquid strikes across Prompto's face and hands. The blonde lands with a heavy sound and Prompto feels himself falling sideways as well, but arms catch him.

The hands on him are searing and he stares up into Noctis' dark eyes. He doesn't know why, but he moves as his body tells him too. His hand come up, the barrel of his gun slotting under Noctis' chin.

Ignis and Gladio hiss in shock and Gladio strides forward, but Noctis raises a hand, gesturing for him to stop. Even now, Gladiolus listens.

"Prompto." The word is a mutter on Noctis lips and Prompto thinks again how tired he feels, how worn Noctis looks. His hand shakes and he feels tears gathering. He doesn't know how to explain, the aching in his body that tells him he's missed some things while he's been unconscious, that he's so angry with Noctis, that he want to curl against him and never leave, that he just wants back the man he loves and not the robot that had replaced him.

"Noctis" He breathes in return and he watches his soulmates face work, there are no tears but Noctis still appears to be crying. He wraps the fingers of his hand around Prompto's, both of them grasping the gun, and he locks eyes with his once lover. They stare at each other, sharing heartbeats, until Prompto's grip goes slack and the gun clatters to the floor.

Noctis tugs him up into a kiss and Prompto's hands cup his face. He vaguely hears Ignis tell Gladiolus,

"Well, they're still as dramatic as humanly possible."

 

 


	3. If You're Drowning, Look to Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the official final chapter for the entire series, the ending place of it all, but there are still more pieces to come. More adventures in the spaces between the beginning and this and I look forward to filling in those pieces with you, but I would also love to know what moments you'd like to see.  
> Come talk to me on tumblr and read more of my Promptis writing   
> Also fuck I'm sorry it's so short! This is just what felt..right.
> 
> https://promtistrashqueen.tumblr.com/

Prompto folds his hands together where they hang between his knees. The sound of a ticking clock makes him feel itchy, especially his shoulder which twinges in time to the noise. Bullet might've gone straight through but it still feels like he's been...well, shot.

He raises a hand finally, scrubbing over his face and sighing, it's ridiculous already, that he's been back in the compound for two whole days and he's only seen Noctis for fifteen minutes, right after they got there. He wants to be pissed about that but Ignis had left a note the last time that cools Prompto's anger.

_"Noctis is setting a few things right, since he apparently rushed out of here without a word to anyone after Gladio and I had left. Things have been falling apart since you left and he felt that he had to redeem himself before being worthy of you. Not that he's said as much, naturally, but I believe we all know him well enough by now to see when he's repenting. I will direct him to you as soon as his guilt has lightened enough for it to be productive.  
Welcome Home Prompto, we have missed you._

_-Ignis"_

 

It's strange, being back feels perfectly natural and also like the most foreign choice he's ever made, but there's still piles of things that he called his, half boxed up in some cases, around the room. He's gathered, from the dust on the dresser and the way that Noctis' shirts are folded how he left them after digging through them, that Noctis didn't come back to this room when he left. It's...a relief if he's honest, to know that neither of them really moved on quickly. He knows Noctis too, knows that it means that somewhere in the compound there's a room with sheets that smell like sex and sweat and the thought of _this_ room being privy to that makes his stomach churn, so he is grateful it was not.

He rises from the chair, determined to continue to put their bedroom to rights while he has time. The partially boxed up possessions tell him that Ignis probably started trying to put them away, likely to send them to him or try to help Noctis and the shards of their lamp, still laying where they'd been tossed at some point, tell him that Noctis was not pleased. He doubts anyone but him has been allowed into this space since he left. It's jarring, like walking into a tomb, in some ways but a comfort in others. It still feels like _his_ bedroom after a long trip.

He's folding the last pair of his pants, black designer jeans whose price tag had made him sick to his stomach until Noctis laughed and reminded him they bought clothes from one of the few companies that had fair wages for all of their workers and regularly donated to charity, when the door opens slowly.

He doesn't turn immediately, though the lack of greeting tells him it's his soulmate. He shuts the dresser drawer carefully and tries for a light tone, "You've always been shit at dusting Noct."

A pair of arms wrap around him, making him jump a little, and he feels the press of Noctis' forehead against his neck, his soulmate's breath hitting his skin on a sigh.

"Prompto"

It's just his name but it feels like Noctis has reached under his ribs and taken hold of his heart again, fingers tight over the organ, waiting to pull it out or to smooth over the hurts. Prompto's shoulders tense and he feels the insane urge to run from this, but he won't, he'll stand his ground.

"Noctis" He murmurs in response, signalling as best he can that they're on the same page,that he's ready to listen if Noctis is ready to hear and maybe they can put themselves back together. Noctis steps back and Prompto turns, following him back to the two chairs where they talked about idle things on brighter days. He takes his place, relaxing a little into the comfortable familiarity of the chair and watching as Noctis does the same. It's not been terribly long, but it's been long enough.

They sit, staring at one another, at the small table between them, the floor, anything as they struggle with how to begin. Finally Noctis breaths out a long sigh, "I went to the doctor yesterday. I'm clean."

It's a bizarre place to start but, Prompto assumes it's something Noctis thinks they need to discuss. He nods, leg bouncing.

"That's good...Noct...Look I don't care, okay? It's shitty that you were with other people when we're-you're my-just..." He's forced to take a quick breath, "Soulmates aren't supposed to do those sorts of things, not in the books, but I know that's not what life is actually like. I'm just glad that you're healthy. I don't want to know who they were or what it was like, not now. There's enough other stuff to figure out man and I-I can't handle more, alright?"

Noctis gives him a wane smile and a nod, but doesn't say anything else, so Prompto decides to ask questions.

"Ignis said you were trying to right some things...what's been going on?"

Noctis twists his fingers together carefully, taking his time to answer, his voice is tired when he finally does, "You were so upset about the human trafficking, and I remember that I promised I'd never let us get into that. Drautos was pushing, it's one of the largest industries, and there were a lot of questions from some of our partners about when we were planning on helping them to run girls. I thought if we got involved, we could help the poor women, we could find a way to stop it from the inside, but there's just not...there's not a way. It's a huge business and there are so few people on our side who care. I spent most of yesterday figuring out how to cut ties to the business and handle the fall out of withdrawing from the circuit entirely. We've still got the corner on drugs, weapons, and organs and a decent foothold in exotic imports. If we get Fellian and Kilidare back...."

Noctis trailed off, head tilted back to look at the ceiling. Prompto bit his lip and leaned forward, "Thank you, for pulling out of that shit. I-I know it's hard to switch over our assets."

The words are carefully chosen and he see's Noctis' acknowledgement of the "our" in the way his soulmate's head jerks toward him, but they aren't done with the logistics yet.

"I...Prom, I know you were pissed that I had a hand in them getting caught, but Loqi-he was already threatening you then. I couldn't get to him to end things then and we made a deal, the two of them out of the way for your safety. I talked to them about it, and they agreed to allow themselves to be caught, we spun it well. I should be able to get them out and with Loqi out of the way now you-"

Prompto cut him off, irritated, "So, instead of telling me and trusting me to take care of myself you set up an eleborate scheme with our friends to have them thrown in prison on the hope you'd be able to get them out before long and after that still didn't bother to, i don't know, tell me and let me think you were a terrible heartless man and leave you because you wouldn't explain shit?"

Oh, he thought, standing with clenched fists and his chest heaving as he tried to breath after shouting most of that, maybe he was still angry and maybe things were all over the place and _fuck_ why couldn't Noctis just talk to him about shit?

Noctis looks down and Prompto swears he's going to cry, his shoulders are slumped and he looks dejected but then his dark grey-blue eyes are focused on his soulmate, "I've made mistakes Prompto. I know, alright? I'm trying now, I will do everything I can to fix them, but you have to give me the time to do so. I can't...if you leave again, I don't think I can take it. I'm not saying it so you'll stay Prom, I'm just telling you the truth. You want to go? Go. If not, then please, let me just-I-"

Prompto is still and Noctis stands as well, flexing his fingers and looking away again, his jaw, stronger than it was once, clenches and Prompto shrugs, fingers spreading wide.

"I'm not going to leave Noct. I can't do it on my own, I thought I could, but you've all the best parts of me now. I'm ready to face that. I'm ready to help you fix things and to take responsibility for my hand in this. We're going to be the most kickass fuckin' leaders together and I'm a little salty that you're family lost their status years ago because I'd look good in a crown. So yeah, I'm staying."

Noctis' laugh is relieved and he doesn't hesitate anymore as he pulls Prompto into a tight embrace, crushing his soulmate to him and burying his face in the crook of Prompto's neck. Prompto hugs him back hard, accepting that it's a journey not yet finished, but they've survived a lot together now and he's confident of the rest.

He presses a kiss to Noctis' hair and tugs him a step, "C'mon, let's take a nap. I missed the bed."

Noctis nods and kisses him. It's a bit of a trying thing, getting undressed and under the blankets, they keep getting tangled as Noctis can't seem to stop kissing whatever part of Prompto's nearest and Prompto's hands crave the feeling of Noctis' skin. When they finally lay down they're wrapped around one another, Prompto's head resting on Noctis' chest.

"Hey, Noct?"

"Yeah"

He lifts Noctis' hand to his lips and kissed the slightly damaged mark, smiling against his skin.

"I still love you."

"I love you too Prom."

 

 


End file.
